Shouaku Kishikata - Grasping the Past
by RachelAshley
Summary: Set in an alternate world during the time of Shishio Makoto, Battousai is aroused. How will Kaoru react when she sees the new, or rather, old Kenshin? Spoilers from the Kyoto and Jinchuu Arc.
1. Prologue - Joshou

** [

Shouaku Kishikata   
(Grasping the Past)

][1]**   
****

Author's Notes 

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or the characters in it. They are used with no intention of self-gain and without the permission of the genius Nobuhiro Watsuki.   
**Spoiler warning**: This fic contains spoilers from the entire Jinchuu and Kyoto Arch of the manga. However, as it is a 'what if' fic, events played out may not be completely accurate or according.   
**PG-13**: This fic contains blood, angst and death. Please only read this if you can handle it and are not disgusted by text of gruesome deeds writing out before you. 

----- 

**---==[[// Joshou \\]]==---**

_That smell…_ His eyes flew open in as the familiar aroma filled his nostrils, his hand jerked back in a futile attempt to stop his blade from slicing through the figure in front of him. 

_…Haku Bai Kou-_ He stared at empty nothingness, knowing what was there without looking, as blood spurted and splattered his face and the snow covered ground, ignoring the stinging sensation of cold steel cutting through his left cheek, creating a perfect X on his face as the tantou once in her hand glided through the cold. He gaped in horror and tried to gasp, but his voice caught in his throat. The dagger fell to the ground, its blood stained blade smearing the liquid on the snow white ground, but he took little notice of it as the figures collapsed. 

--- _   
Joshou - Prologue   
Haku Bai Kou - White plum perfume   
Tantou - dagger_   
--- 

He dropped to one knee in front of the fallen figure in front of him, cradling her upper body in his arms, crystal tears forming in his eyes as he fought an onslaught of emotion. His throat was dry, eyes burning and nose tingling. He could almost feel the silken drop of water slide down his pale skin. Almost… 

"Tomoe…" he whispered, choking on the hot tears. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and continued in a harsh wavering voice. "Tomoe… Why… Why…" He looked down at her, his vision blurring as the tears clouded his vision, yet he could still see her gaze meet his. She drew a labored breath as she reached out and lightly grazed his cheek, her touch feathery and cold. Her eyes closed and she smiled through the tears forming, gasping out her final words a trembling voice, filled, for the first time, with bursting emotion and passion. 

_"It's going to be alright… so please don't cry…"_ A chill swept through the clearing, and it was not the bitter winter wind… It was the chill that the hitokiri was all too familiar with… the chill that made his insides go numb and his whole being cold. It was the chill of death… 

"-To…mo…e," his eyes widened and his tears flowed, mixing with the blood on his cheek. The hitokiri did not even notice the stinging pain as panic swept through his being. "TOMOE!!" His grip tightened on her shoulder as if trying to stop her from dying, to stop her soul from parting her body. To stop her breath from ceasing. To stop_ himself _from losing the woman he loved… 

He pulled her close to his body, but felt no breath, no heartbeat, and he knew that she had reached the end of her journey. His experience as a hitokiri had told him that even as his blade touched her skin. Before she'd even started drawing her last few breaths. But no… 

It couldn't be true… It just couldn't. How could an innocent woman die? _ He _should be the one who died. _ He _deserved it after all those lives _he_ took, the pain and anguish_ he _caused to loved ones of_ his_ victims. So why her? Why did Tomoe have to die? Why? Squeezing his eyes shut, he clutched her icy cold, lifeless body to his chest, clenching his teeth as he surrendered to the anguish and tears that followed. He deserved it anyway. But not her. Never her. So… why…? 

_No…_

- Prologue Fin -

   [1]: http://ultimax.faithweb.com/img/SK20002.jpg



	2. Chapter 1 - Anata no Yumemiru

**---==[[// Chapter 1: Anata no Yumemiru \\]]==---   
(Dreaming of You)**

_TOMOE!_ His head jerked up and he gasped in shock, beads of cold sweat on his forehead. Still shocked, he wiped his forehead free of the sweat and stretched his back, looking around at the forested area around him. No wait… forested area? He frowned as he wondered what he was doing in the middle of a forest instead of Kaoru-dono's dojo. 

_Oh yeah,_ he thought, remembering. _Shishio Makato…_ He winced slightly as he remembered the night he had left Tokyo. Kaoru-dono had been a nice girl. Maybe she might even teach him that of which he had lost so many years ago. Maybe… but she could not really blame him for leaving her. He was, after all, a rurouni, wandering around to atone for his past… His past… Pain coursed through his heart as he thought about his past and the dream. And at the truth of it… 

_I will_ not_ think about it!_ he thought fiercely, but knew it was no use. Images of the way she walked, the way she talked, the way she everything… they all drifted through his mind like some those horrible memories that just could not be erased from the mind eye, no matter how hard you tried. He sighed and thought about something else. Anything to keep the image of falling snow and the scent of haku bai kou out of his mind. He had only left the Dojo last night, after which he had met Saito Hajime. The scene replayed itself in his mind, but he shook the image of the wolfish grin playing on the lips of the Mibu's wolf out of his mind. God, if everything he thought about bothered him he would go insane! 

Yet another image popped into his mind, this time of a girl who fascinated him with her naivety, the open way she carried herself, the honesty in her wide azure eyes… he sighed. This was not the first time he felt like he was falling for some one willing to offer him their hospitality, which was why he wanted to leave before it was too late, just like with the other girls… He could not and _would_ not allow an innocent girl to be affected by his bloody past. Not if he could help it. 

Sighing, he shifted his position slightly and closed his eyes, trying to get sufficient sleep for the journey ahead of him. 

---==[|]==---

_Doshite? Doshite? Oh, kami-sama, why did he have to leave?_

A thin ribbon of silvery moonlight slipped in through the partially closed door and onto her cheek, making her crystalline tears glisten in the faint gentle glow. The night was completely silent spare the cricking of some nocturnal animal, a sheet of noiseless darkness thrown over the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu Dojo, punctuated only by the soft, barely-audible sobbing of the owner of the Dojo; Kamiya Kaoru. 

_"Ima made arigatou soshite…"_

Oh god it hurt. It hurt so much when he said that line. That line she could never forget. A refrain in her mind, always replaying itself over and over again in her mind, no matter how much she wanted it to stop. How her mind cried out with every word spoken, his voice echoing endlessly in her ears… 

_"Soshite…" _

"Soshite sayonara." 

--- _   
Doshite - why   
Kami-sama - God   
Ima made - until now; so far; up to the present   
Arigatou - thank you   
Sayonara - good bye_   
--- 

---==[|]==---

He was in the Dojo again. Or rather, standing at the twin wooden doors to the dojo. The moon hung high in the night sky, its serene face obscured by a faint veil of clouds, spreading its ethereal radiance over the old Dojo below. Beams of moonlight shone through the thin floating clouds, forming pools of silver on the bare ground. _What am I doing here? Wasn't I just in the forest on my way to Kyoto…?_ He glanced around him, but all he could see behind and to the sides was a never ending stretch of white… it was as if nothing except him and the Dojo existed. 

_Okay, this is weird,_ he thought as he nudged open the Dojo doors, the old wood creaking slightly. He winced. _I hope Kaoru-dono doesn't wake up._ He took a ginger step into the dojo, the beautiful night glow bathing him in the moon's rays. He glanced up to see the moon it's full glory, hanging in the sky with such radiating beauty he wished he could share it with some one he loved. Almost immediately, an image of a beautiful Japanese girl with long bangs that covered her face came to mind, her rosy lips set in a completely emotionless curve, her deep brown eyes looking back at him in an unreadable expression, or rather, none at all. He squeezed his eyes tight and shut off the painful mental image. 

Taking a deep breath, he brought his other leg over the step and was completely in the Dojo. He was here to see how Kaoru-dono was. As quietly as possible, he walked to her rooms, making sure his footsteps on the polished wood of the Dojo were inaudible. He could already imagine Kaoru-dono making Yahiko clean the Dojo from top to bottom for calling her busu. 

A soft whimper caught his ear, making him freeze. _Kaoru-dono?_ Clutching his sakabatou, he slipped up to her room's door and peeked in through the narrow crack of the door, sword ready to fly through the air and bring down any attacker who might be in the room. There was none. _Nani?!_

--- _   
Busu - ugly   
Sakabatou - reversed edge sword   
Nani - what_   
--- 

Shifting his eye away from the crack, he leaned the side of his face on the door, his sensitive ears trying to pick up words muttered from her lips, if any. Not a sound left those parted lips except an occasional sniffing. Then the double syllable rolled off her tongue so easily, so grievously, he wanted to jump in and hold her in his arms. To comfort her and tell her everything would be alright. But he could not. 

_"Kenshin…"_

How could he? _He_ was the cause of her anguish, her sleepless nights of tears. And he sure as hell could not help her. Because if he did she was bound to be more attached to him. Just like every other girl he had met on his long perilous journey of eternity, his way of atoning for his bloody past. She was not the first girl he had left, and she probably would not be the last. But, she had been one of the more lucky ones, or rather, unfortunate ones, as he had stayed with her much longer than any other girl. 

He cursed his damn weakness in not leaving when he should have. He had been so tired from traveling, so tired… why did he have to stay when she asked him his name? He had told himself he would leave the next day. Days turned to weeks, never a day him wanting to thank her hospitality and leave. But no. He had to stay with her for weeks on end, never leaving and now… this… 

_This_ was the out come. He was on his way to possible death fight. But that was not the least of his concerns. It was the feeling of anguish he was putting the sobbing figure in the room beside him. If only he had left earlier. Maybe then the pain would be less. Sighing at the mess he had created, he walked slowly out of the Dojo, shutting the door completely behind him. 

---==[|]==---

Miles away, the door to the room of Kamiya Kaoru slid shut. Startled, she turned to look at the door. _Kenshin!?_ No sound penetrated the silent darkness except a lone cricket. She sighed sadly. _Probably just the wind._

Choking back the hot tears in her throat, she turned back and closed her eyes, squeezing the crystalline pearls of liquid out of the corners of her eyes as she tried to go back to sleep. 

- Chap 1 Fin -


	3. Chapter 2 - Dakara Gojin Sentou

**---==[[// Chapter 2: Dakara Gojin Sentou \\]]==---   
(So We Fight)**

The sound of his sandals scraping the bare ground was the only thing that reached his ears as he walked towards the twin wooden doors of the Dojo. He pushed open one of the doors and, to his surprise, a blinding white light streamed in on his eyes. His arms flung ahead, blocking the sunlight from his eyes. Sneaking a peak from beneath his hand's shadow he saw… 

Blinking in surprise, he found that he was back in the forest on the road to Kyoto, the sun just peeking over the lush verdant hills to the east. An aura of the mist of dawn radiated from the hills and the sky was painted in a beautiful symphony of shades of pink and yellow, the corners in which were untouched by the sun's creeping rays still draped in velvety dark blue. The serene moon could still be seen in the distance, her glow not as radiant and strong with the competition from the sun's overawing rays. _So… it had just been another dream…_

--- _   
Dakara - So; therefore   
Gojin - we   
Sentou - fight; battle; combat_   
--- 

---==[|]==---

His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits and he watched Chou grin at him menacingly. His Hakujin no Tachi was still lose in the air, the silver of the blades catching a ray of sunlight and shining into his eyes. His sakabatou, or what was left of it after the fight with Soujirou, was already gone and he was completely defenseless against Chou's long, flexible sword. His mind was whirling as it tried to develop a plan to use against Chou, but so far that was all it was doing; whirling and never stopping. He was defenseless _and_ without plan. 

"Himura-san!" Arai Seikuu's voice rang out across the courtyard, from the direction of a temple. He stole a quick glance towards him just in time to see a flash of russet brown flying his way. Instinct kicked in and he grabbed the sword in mid-air, his eyes widening as he recognized the weapon he now held, clutched in his hand. "It's my father's last sword! Please, use this!" 

He could only stare at the sword. _So… this is Arai Shakkuu's last and most powerful sword… It's been a long time since I've held a real katana… not since…_ He trailed off that train of thought. Eyes lowered, he slowly shifted into a slightly crouching position, hands seemingly ready to draw his sword, but through his mind ran thoughts otherwise. _I am _not_ drawing this sword against Chou, no matter what…_

"The stagehand's a little late throwing in the props," Chou remarked. "Well, whatever. I'll destroy you and take the last work… two birds with one stone. Draw it. I've had enough, let's settle this. We're two equal swordsmen. It'll be easy to tell which will kill and which will be killed." Kenshin was silent. There was a quiet murmur behind him, where Misao and Okina were watching the fight. 

"You're Hitokiri Battousai…" Chou continued. "And you hesitate to kill." Their eyes met. "All right, if you've forgotten the joy of killing, I'll make you remember. Based on this performance." 

"Iori!" Seikuu's strangled cry rang out to his side. 

"I'll destroy what you called a heaven-sent child of peace!" Chou cried in a voice mixed with maniac laughter, his specially made sword dancing in the wind. Behind him, he heard the sound of Misao whipping out her kunai and the snapping of Okina's nunchucks. Inside of him, a battle raged as his heart burned with the desire to save Iori but not break his vow of never killing again. He felt himself moving forward, yet pulling himself back best he could. Finally, the Rurouni in him let go and he found himself _flying_ towards Chou's laughing form. 

"Come on!" Chou screamed, his eyes alit with insane laughter. "I'll pay you back for making a fool of me!" His sword, once turned against Iori, whipped back like a deadly cobra changing it's mind and came slicing towards Kenshin. Without even blinking, he leapt clear of the snaking blade, the space between him and Chou ever decreasing. 

"I've got you now!" Chou grinned, his Hakujin no Tachi changing its direction yet again with alarming speed towards Kenshin's vulnerable back. Kenshin did not even look back as his words echoed throughout the courtyard with vehement rage. 

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuukansen Tsumuji!" 

His eyes made Chou's blood freeze as they came closer and closer; they were like the eyes of a demon, freed after years of imprisonment and was unleashing its wild fury. Those, and the phosphorus gleam of the katana wielded in the demon's hands, were the last things he saw as the demon draw the katana and slashed through his seemingly frail body with almost no resistance. 

He was literally slashed in half, the blood from Chou's body splattering on the floors of the courtyard and staining his gi and hakame a shade of claret. His ears were ringing and head was spinning as he realized what he had done, staring at his blood-stained hands in horror, but the dull thud of Chou's body as it hit the floor did not miss his sensitive ears. Nor did he miss Misao and Okina's simultaneous gasps of horror, or the way he felt sick to the gut. 

"Himura…" Misao's wavering voice whispered. She had not actually objected to his killing at the start, but now that he had actually done it… Iori had stopped crying from the tree where he hung and there was a general feeling of shock in the air. Finally, a faint cracking sound broke the silence, though soft as it was it sounded like gunshot to Kenshin's ears, accustomed to the deathly silence. 

The hilt of the katana fell apart and he let go of it, the blade slicing neatly into the ground as the wood gave way. There it stood until finally, Kenshin snapped out of his trance and, reaching out, jerked the sword out of the stoned floor. 

"Let's go back to the Aoiya," he said in a voice strangely devoid of emotion, the sound piercing through the silence like a sharp knife. Everyone nodded silently with barely audible sounds of 'hai' and the returned to the Aoiya without a noise, Kenshin's face hidden by his fiery hair and sword sheathed to conceal the dripping blood. 

They reached the Aoiya and was greeted by Omasu's smiling face, though that quickly changed the moment she saw the grim line that was Okina's lips, Misao's far away look and Himura's cold stare. She bowed without a word and opened the door to welcome them in. They went, single file, into one of the rooms upstairs. She heard nothing more of what had happened that day. 

- Chap 2 Fin -

Author's notes: This is what I meant by alternate universe. I don't know if the battle was a bit rushed, and I already have a brief idea of how the next chapter's going to come as. I've even written 50% of it. Thank you for wasting you time with this sad attempt at a fic. I greatly appreciate your support. All criticism and flames are welcome.   
  



	4. Chapter 3 - Atonohou Juu Nen

**---==[[// Chapter 3: Atonohou Juu Nen \\]]==---   
(Ten Years Later)**

She hummed to herself a song of the geisha, her tiny steps taken by each delicate foot making a soft clunking sound as the wood of her omori hit the cold grey stone beneath her. She should be reaching the temple soon. 

_Hmm… I wonder if okaasan has anything in store for me when I get back to the teahouse…_ She thought vaguely, smiling prettily at the men who looked at her in appreciation, then blushing ever so slightly, giving a somewhat embarrassed giggle and turning her face away, as if to say 'No, you can't have me here. You can, however, look for me in at the teahouse' and thus bringing herself more money. 

A strong, copper smell met her senses, sending her nose tingling. Her eyes widened as she quickened her pace up the steps. The stench grew stronger as she approached the top and she thought she saw a flash of deep red. The dread in her chest rose as she climbed the last few steps. The gruesome sight laid out before her was horrifying, the dread bubbling up and moving over to a new emotion. Fear. A shrill scream escaping her throat, she rushed down the steps, almost falling over the restricting kimono as she hurried to get away from the staring body, screaming bloody murder. 

--- _   
Okaasan - mother. In this case it does not mean biological mother   
Omori - Japanese sandal   
Atonohou - Later   
Juu - ten   
Nen - years_   
--- 

---==[|]==---

A deep veil of gloomy silence, punctuated only by the soft breathing of the occupants of the room, hung over the heads of those present as Kenshin silently fitted a new handle onto his katana. The blade had been cleaned and his clothes changed so that they now were blood free, but the stench of blood still hung in the air… maybe it was just his imagination, maybe it was real, but whatever it was, he could not get rid of the smell of blood, even if he washed his hands a million times. It was just like back in the Bakumatsu and he was the legendary hitokiri Battousai… No, he was still the hitokiri. He always have and always will. It was a part of him he had to live with… and that part of him had just re-awoken from a long slumber in the depths of his being, a bird let out of it's cage to fly free… 

Already, flecks of amber were visible in his once pure lavender eyes. He felt Misao and Okina watching him as he finished fitting in the handle. He wore his washed white and purple attire, but deep inside of him he had a feeling that was going to change to a midnight blue. Battousai was away but not asleep. He would see to it that everything was back to the way it was. 

"You don't have to go back to the hitokiri Battousai!" Misao finally burst, her voice shattering the deafening silence. Okina give her a look but Kenshin was silent. He glanced up at her and ocean-blue sapphires met golden speckled amethysts. Misao flinched and recoiled slightly at the sight of the cold, unfamiliar eyes of the once warm, friendly rurouni. She was not looking at Himura Kenshin. She was looking into the eyes of the most feared hitokiri in Japan legend. Hitokiri Battousai. 

"You just killed someone, so what?" she went on with all the courage she could muster, her eyes darting nervously from Kenshin, no, Battousai's eyes to his hands, which were still hovering above the gleaming katana. "You just broke your vow once… you don't have to become Battousai again… This time can just be an exception…" 

"And then what…?" his rough voice floated to her ears, his face hidden by his flaming red hair. "Let this be an exception… and the next kill… and the next, and the one after. Is that what you mean?" 

"N-no!" She stammered, shocked by the harshness in his voice. "I mean-" 

"Himura!" Okina's voice rang out suddenly, putting an end to Misao's slip of the tongue. They turned their attention to the elderly man who had been kneeling at one side, silent till then. "We have no been able to find the other man you seek of, Hiko Seijuurou." Kenshin nodded, then finally faced Okina and Misao. 

"I thank you for your hospitality and would like to repay you best I can." Without a word, he stood up, sliding his katana into the sash around his waist. Okina and Misao rose to their feet as well. Silently, Kenshin walked up to Okina and pressed a coin bag into his hands. 

"Hi…Himura…" Okina gasped in shock, looking at the short man standing before him. He shook his head. "I can't accept this, take it back…" Kenshin pushed away the bag as if it were offending, looking straight in the eyes of the Oniwabanshuu. Okina sighed, knowing this was no battle he would win. 

"When we find information about Hiko Seijurrou we'll let you know," he said, putting the bag of coins in his gi. Kenshin nodded wordlessly and left the room, sliding the door shut behind him. The ominous thud was followed by the faint scraping of his sandals on the wooden floor of the Aoiya. 

Kenshin was gone. 

---==[|]==---

A signal flare exploded like a sunburst in the sapphire sky, drawing the redhead's attention to the glimmering fireworks. It had exploded above the Aoiya, illuminating the Japanese house in a shower of shades of orange and reddish hues. He had not been in that place for three days, mostly wandering the forested area near the town, waiting. _So… they've found my Shishou…_

---==[|]==---

"Himura." It was a brief greeting. Kenshin acknowledged it with a slight nod of his head. 

"Okina." He returned the somewhat tense greeting and went straight to business. He had no intention of staying at the Aoiya any longer than needed. "I assume you have news about the whereabouts of Hiko Seijuurou?" Okina apparently sensed his impatience and spared him from questions of his well-being. 

"After a while of searching, our Oniwabanshuu spies have finally pin-pointed the location of this man," he stated in a business-like tone. "It had been hard, considering he had gone under an alias. Niitsu Kakunoshin, better known to you as Hiko Seijuurou, is a rising new name in the world of pottery and ceramics. Living by himself a little way out of the city, he makes his pots there and brings them to the city to sell." 

"Niitsu Kakunoshin…" Kenshin echoed. Okina nodded and pressed a white envelope into the former (?) hitokiri's hands. 

"Battousai," he said, his eyes meeting golden-flecked violet. Kenshin noted the change of the way he was addressed. "I know you may not need it, but good luck, take care. I will tell my pretty Misao about Shinomori Aoshi in due time. Until then, may we meet again someday." 

---==[|]==---

Hidden in the shadows, possibly unknown to them, a tall dark figure stood, faint light illuminating his sharply featured face; light from the cigarette dangling from the gloved fingers of the man, just inches away from his upturned mouth. 

"So… Battousai has been awakened. This makes things much more convenient." He let out an inaudible smirk. With a flick of his wrist, the half-smoked cigarette fell to the ground, the ambers tracing a faint orange contour which stopped at the ground, where the glowing ashes of the cigarette lay. I really have to break my smoking habit. Without a word the figure left. 

---==[|]==---

Troubled sapphire eyes never left the ground as the petite young girl of eighteen walked slowly through the busy streets of Kyoto. Her body may have been down on earth, but her mind was wandering as she heard the emotionless voice of Himura. The way his once pure violet eyes now held specks of gold, as if they were a terrible disease threatening to plague his soul. Her feet unconsciously brought her to the Shirobeko, where Okina had suggested she had her lunch. 

_Well, no use worrying about it,_ she reasoned, trying to cheer up. _He's been gone for three days and there have not been any reports of mysterious killings, so I don't think the hitokiri in him has completely awoken._ She walked into the Shirobeko and was immediately greeted by a short waitress in an apron and a hair ribbon fixed to her strangely short, spiky hair. 

"Welcome!" she snapped in an angry tone. Misao's eyes widened as she realized that the waitress standing before her was not a she, but a he! She stared at him in shock, forgetting to snap at him for his rudeness, barely realizing that he returned the gaze. _What's with the weird outfit?_

"We've got a customer!" a female voice called out. 

"Got it!" another voice shouted in reply. Misao barely heard this as she sat in a booth, thinking about Himura's strange, detached voice. 

"-Order. What would you like?" Misao managed to catch from the girl standing before her as she tuned into the real world. She wore a pretty kimono and her ebony hair was held high on her hair by a pink ribbon. Her wide turquoise eyes meeting Misao's slightly light shade of azure. 

"Umm..." she murmured, wondering what _should_ she eat. She glanced at the menu on the wall but a poster caught her eye. 

_'Missing Person: Himura Kenshin. Short, red hair, cross-shaped scar on his left cheek, carries a sword. If found please contact the Shirobeko at once.'_

---==[|]==---

The soft green grass he walked on made no sound or put up no resistance as he walked through them, the thin blades of green softening his footsteps, a wide spread of verdant carpet. His katana never left his side, his face hidden by his long, soft flaming bangs. He approached the clearing and saw a figure sitting before his kiln, a jug of what could only be sake at his side. The figure did not seem to hear his arrival, but he knew better. 

Without a word, Kenshin darted forward, towards the figure, drawing his katana and slicing at the spot where the figure once was. In fact, he had not at all drawn his sword, but merely pulled his katana out of his sash, saya and all. The figure landed behind him gracefully. 

"That's pretty low," he commented, straightening up. "Attacking a mere potter out of nowhere." 

"Hiko Seijuurou is no mere potter," he retorted, putting his katana back into his sash. Hiko turned slowly to face the redhead. 

"Who are you?" he asked, his eyes lying on the body of the man before him for the first time in ten long years… 

"It's been a long time, Master…" 

--- _   
Saya - sheath_   
--- 

- Chap 3 Fin -

Author's notes: I decided to follow the manga for the storyline in this so it'll be less confusing, so probably no more anime references. I'll also be including scenes from the manga to refresh your memory. All credit for the scenes from the manga go to[ maigo-chan's][1] translations. Without your help, I don't know how this would have turned out. Arigatou.

   [1]: http://www.maigo-chan.org/



	5. Chapter 4 - Naishin

**---==[[// Chapter 4: Naishin \\]]==---   
(Thoughts)**

_I watch the boy wearily, wondering what has happened to him. He has never seemed so haggard, so old before. Then again, it's been ten years since I've seen him. He looks at me through soulful eyes. Eyes that have seen everything, yet nothing. He knows of pain, of death and of grief. But does he know of childhood bliss? Of just playing in the sun with the other children, not at all worrying if his stance was wrong or if he was doing the right thing? I feel pity and sometimes, I wish I'd never trained him to be the next Hiten Master. To let him have a carefree childhood. But, it's now too late and here I have the end result. _

I eye his sword, realizing he did not draw it from it's saya when attacking me. I study the curve and realize that this is not the sakabatou he had been rumored to be carrying, but rather, is a real katana. I glance at him in half surprise, but his eyes are covered by his fiery hair, as if he is too ashamed to look at his teacher. Or should I say former teacher. 

Ignoring the confusion in my mind, I smirk and put on my arrogant demeanor. 

"Why, my baka deshi has come back after ten long years. Coming here to pay your respects to the greatest teacher of all time?" Kenshin looks up at me and his eyes widen slightly. Part of me is reassured now that he is acting more like himself. The other part is wondering what the heck it up with the widening of the eyes thing. 

"…What's with the widening of the eyes thing?" I mutter after a period of awkward silence, trying to keep the fact that his silence had embarrassed me out of my voice. Kenshin immediately turns a shade of scarlet red and look at the floor, mumbling something along the lines of 'ten years and he's still as arrogant as ever'. Or at least, something that sounded like that. I roll my eyes. 

"Come inside." 

---==[|]==---

_I stare at the hand drawn picture on the wall in utter shock, the image of a young man with a scar on his face smiling brightly, a startling contrast to when I last saw him; a solemn, worn man with cold, golden flecked violet and an emotionless face. Stunned, I feel my mouth gape and a single word parts it. _

"Himura!!" 

The next thing I know the phrase "You know where Kenshin-" cuts through my mind and I suddenly have a stinging pain in my head, and I recoil in shock as my hands fly to my head and I nurse my bruise. I realize the girl with long black hair had jumped at me, quite literally, and knocked against my head. Ouch. 

"Settle down, settle down." It's the transvestite talking. We do. 

"You…" the girls says again, clutching my shoulders, her wide guileless eyes staring into mine. "You know Kenshin! Can you tell me where he is?" And I realize, maybe, she was the one… the one he parted in Tokyo… 

---==[|]==---

"Well," my master says sitting down on a bench, "now that you've had the gall to actually show your face here, what is it you want with me?" I gaze around the room at the shelves that line the room, and for a moment forget all that plague me. 

"It seems that Niitsu Kakunoshin is a rising new name in the world of ceramics," I comment mildly. "Why pottery again?" 

"I didn't really care," he reply. "Pottery, whatever. It was just the easiest way to make a living without having to deal with a lot of people." 

"That's easy for you to say," I retort. He would probably offend all he spoke to with his humongous ego anyway. 

"Well, you know," he replies, flicking his hair and striking a pose. "My genius shows in whatever I do." He's as conceited as ever. 

"You didn't answer my question," he notes calmly. "You came to tell me something that's hard for you to say." Oddly, I feel surprised. "I was your master. I can read my baka deshi like a book." My eyes fall to the ground as memories plague me. And haku bai kou. 

"Then I'll say it straight out." The words seem to come out of my mouth of their own accord. I kneel before my shishou. " 

--- _   
Baka - idiot; fool   
Deshi - student   
Shishou - master   
Haku Bai Kou - White plum perfume_   
--- 

"Absolutely not," his voice finally breaks through the silence, killing the hope that my speech had roused whatever good will he had in him to agree. "You were the one who left ten years ago." He turns away. "Why now after all this time." I am calm still, and my hand shoots out towards his white cape, yet my gaze stays on the ground, my other hand resting out of habit on my saka-no, my katana. He stops and turns to look at me. 

"Please… I beg of you." I think I see a troubled expression cross his face, but it was gone so fast I figured I imagined it. 

"…Well, that's something," he says, a slight smirk playing on his lips. I had to had have imagined the troubled look. It was so unlike shishou. "You look like you're at the end of your rope. All right. If you're asking, I'm listening." 

---==[|]==---

"…" I do not know what to say. That their beloved Kenshin had reverted to the hitokiri Battousai by a huge, screwed-up twist of fate? Her imploring eyes look into mine, and somewhere deep inside me, the some-what logical and intelligent part said 'Misao-chan, she may be able to help Himura.' Sometimes I suspected Aoshi-sama left behind a little of himself in me, and that gives me faith that I will see him again; Because he would come back to reclaim that which was his. But enough about me. 

"Okina-that's my grandfather-would know where Himura is," I say. "We can go ask the old geezer!" The girl smiles, and I suddenly feel like a burden had been thrown on my shoulders. She looked so happy… what would she say or do if she saw that Himura had… 

"Thanks, uhm, you are…?" 

"Makimachi Misao," I proclaim proudly. "And you are?" 

"Kamiya Kaoru," she says, giving a somewhat formal bow. Feeling awkward, I return the bow. "And this is my student Myojin Yahiko." 

"Student?" I blurt. "Are you sur-" I see the look on her face and decide for once in my life to hold my tongue. "I meant, I'm_ sure you're an excellent teacher." I finish lamely, giving a nervous giggle. She seems somewhat satisfied with my answer and leaves me be. _

We find Okina and obtain the information to where Himura would be headed. Okina gives me a strange look, but I gives him a small smile to say I knew what I was doing. Or at least, I hope I did. And then we make our way to the residence of Niitsu Kakunoshin, resident hermit in the forested outskirts of the city that was Kyoto. 

- Prologue Fin -

Author's notes: I'm sorry for not updating in forever, I kind of lost interest in this, but was prompted to continue on by fans. I'm currently working on Final Fantasy VIII: A Prelude (Take a look at the draft on my profile) and am currently somewhat uninterested in anime anymore. However, I _have_ enjoyed myself writing these short pieces. I have also looked back at previous chapters and realize that I have made several mistakes. I'm also not too happy with my writing, but I have decided against editing it. I hope you will forgive me, and I also apologise for the shortness of this chapter in comparison to the other chapters. 


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